Vampire in Her Mysts by Meagan Hatfield Page A

gift of sight.
    He twisted his arms slightly, exposing the marks forcibly inked alongside his old ones, branding him a traitor to the vanator brethren. His stomach soured. Assassin scum was more accurate. Blood hunters, true vanators were brother to no one. Masters of disguise, they frequently changed personality, occupation and appearance to the point of being chameleons. They always worked alone. And they always hunted their prey until they were either captured or dead.
    And for the first time, Yuri was the prey, not the hunter.
    A twig snapped in the forest behind him.
    Yuri froze. Instinct had him sinking lower into the grass seconds before his brain registered the order. Eyes alert, he scanned the darkness. A thick cloud passed before the moon, shutting out what little light there’d been. Yuri breathed out a curse as night’s veil cloaked the forest around him, further concealing any would-be attacker. Careful to not make a sound, he floated his hand inches above the velvety lawn toward the dagger holstered at his thigh. Holding the weapon in his palm, Yuri fisted the hilt tight and waited.
    If it was a vanator who hunted him, he wouldn’t have to wait long.
    He swallowed, his grip flexing on the weapon.
    The darkness not forty yards behind him suddenly parted, revealing the pale flesh of a woman’s leg. An astonishingly long, slender leg. Yuri blinked. Certain he must be hallucinating from the loss of blood. Yet he remained fixed on the spot, waiting for the apparition to show herself once more. A heartbeat later, a bright flash of red fabric swished in the night, followed by the second bare leg until the woman stepped into full view.
    Although the heavy cloak she wore obscured her form, the brief glimpse of red ceremonial robes beneath it identified who she was.
    A Kalu .
    One of the holy women from the Samostan , a women’s temple devoted to the worship of the Goddess.
    Yuri regarded the girl intently, remaining alert even though she posed no real threat to him other than alerting any lurking vanators to his presence.
    With feline grace, the woman walked toward the water. The pads of her feet rolled from ball to heel with the elegance of a dancer. His sight in line with her ankles, he studied their delicate structure, the dip and curve of bone and flesh. Each step slid the cloak higher up her legs, first past her knee and then her thigh. Yuri eagerly explored each inch as it became visible. The curve of her calf, sway of her knee and slender thigh, each inch more enticing than the last. For a woman devoted to prayer and books, her body was more muscular than he would have thought.
    An arm reached back and up. In a deft move, the woman removed the hood, settling the fabric back on her shoulders. His gaze slid to her profile. Skin, so white and pure in the moonlight it could be translucent, glowed with the perfect luster of a pearl. In stark contrast, wave after wave of ebony hair flowed down the enticing curve of her back, resting at the dip of her hip. She looked ethereal. A goddess reminiscent of the one she worshipped.
    The female bent to the water’s edge only a stone’s throw away. With the grace of a soaring hawk, her pale arm arced over the water. Yuri caught sight of her wrists, slender and elegant, before she dipped her hands, plunging them into the lake and scooping up water. A moment later, the cloak fell off, pooling to the ground around her feet.
    Yuri’s heart skipped. Sweet Goddess, if he thought her magnificent before, she rendered him speechless now.
    He’d heard of the alluring, borderline erotic Kalu garment, but had never seen one. Slaves to the Goddess, the Kalu’ s attire reflected such. Red arm covers swathed her forearms from wrist to bicep. A narrow piece of fabric crisscrossed over her breasts and curved, wrapping once around her waist, leaving an enticing amount of flesh exposed from her rib cage to her navel. Panels, no more than ten inches wide, hung